This really gets to the heart of the SullenTeen experience. On of the worst things about being a teenager is dumbasses bugging you all the time. For some reason, everyone seems to care a lot more about your life then you do. Your teachers want you to "participate", they think you are "not working up to potential", they want you to "join the debate team". Your parents, in the meanwhile, want you to "be polite", "look nice", and "be successful". You, you just want to get stoned and maybe hump someone. Your life is stressful enough. Why can't they leave you alone? Well, here it is, from people who know: 5 tricks that will make everyone forget you are alive.
#5) Turn down your stereo.
Believe it or not, many a "concerend" parent, who wants to talk about your anti-social behavior and problems at school, is really just trying to get you to turn off that Insane Clown Posse album. Keep the music down, they'll forget you're even there.
#4) Keep a book in front of you. Most parents are hesitant to interupt the miracle of a reading child.
#3) Wear moderately baggy clothes. Skin and body shape get you noticed pretty quickly. Too baggy, though, and they'll think you're in a gang. Avoid sunglasses, which actually make you more conspicuous. Wear hoods, not hats. Hats are an obvious draw for teachers trying to embarrass you. Hoods just make you look cold and small. Non-threatening.
#2) Sit at the edge of a classroom, not the back. Teachers are on to that one. Closer to a wall, the better.
And the number 1 way to get left alone in high school is...
#1) Talk very slowly and softly. If teachers and parents know you are impossible to understand, they won't bother talking to you. Also works on other students.
Ways to keep people from bugging you, or even acknowledging your existence...
What would happen if you gave your parents mushrooms or lsd? Please describe/explain.
by the way, we can always use more advise queries... just send 'em in!
So with all the hoopla about marketing cigarettes to children why haven't we seen:
Why do we allow Coke to market itself to children? If more americans drank less coke, there'd be few fatasses in this country. Being fat is also bad for your health.
And another thing -- non-smoking sections piss me off. I want to go out to Bickford's now, but they've changed they're policy. At least I think so. If not, please clue me in. I am sick of going to restaurants and being told that there is no smoking section. Just once, I would like to hear that a restaurant has been declared a smoke-easy and that there is no non-smoking section.
Or tell them that "non-smoking" is outside.
I can see that conversation.
"We have non-smoking outside."
"But it's January."
I wake up with wood
when I dream of her.
Her image has taken root in my mind.
I try to fathom her
but her personality is knotty.
Instead, I count her rings.
When will we dance around the maple?
When will she let pOak her?
I wish we could be together
But I know she's more poplar than me.
Her mahogany hair,
her ebony eyes,
her olive skin...
her chesnut thighs
Oh when will I pop her cherry?
I'll never forget the excruciating pain
Of when I cedar with some other guy.
Oh, when can I plant my seedling in her?
Or must I pine forever?
She seemed so right
But she went against the grain
I heard she's been running around with some birch dyke.
Still, these feelings won't leaf me alone.
I care not a particle, board of this life
I eat not the wafer, board of this life.
my life is a jigsaw puzzle with too many missing pieces.
Opinions of the editorial staff are split on this issue, but conscience compells me to weigh in before my colleagues. Either conscience or that Machiavellian drive to tell my tale first so that the second place finisher may bear the stigma of LIAR.
Well, here goes. The SullenTeen is sullen because he never gets to sleep. Dammit, listen to me. I have to get up at 7 to get ready for
school, then spend six half-sleepy hours in classes, run myself ragged at lacrosse for two hours, work my lameass job at KFC until 9, then finally start my homework. I'm always on the run from one point to another and generally I don't even have my own car at my disposal. Oh yeah, add in to that all the stupid theater and yearbook shit I do to ensure that I get to go to "a good college."
Let's compare this to my dad's life. He get's up at 8 to be in work by 9. If he's 10 minutes late, there's no detention, no lost wages. *Maybe* a grumble from his simp of a boss, but even that is unlikely. Plus, he gets a full hour and a half for lunch break as compared to my measely 25 minutes. He's off work by 5, eating dinner by six ("Oh, leave a plate for "the boy," Mom. Har har har." Isn't the freudian trauma of married people calling each other Mom and Dad enough to turn them off sex? Apparently not, given my sister...) He's on the couch by seven and in bed by ten. Compared to by gulag of a life, he's drifting away again in Margaritaville.
If adults had to do half the bullshit work for the low pay and minimal respect of teenagers, they'd shit themselves.
Luckily, my "academic" requirements are pretty minimal.
The worst part is that if you even open your mouth to talk about this, you get told these are "the best days of your life." No, thank you. I plan for those days to be when I own my own house, have a car, can actually go somewhere on vacation -- so far this summer has seen one beach trip -- and maybe get laid once in a blue moon.
Why's the SullenTeen sullen? Because he needs to sleep and he doesn't need someone bitching about how "lazy" he is.
In the meanwhile, why don't people tell us stories of how they started smoking. Or other good smoking stories. I invite the editors to begin...
I started smoking when I enrolled in a philosophy course at a local college -- no I will not tell you which one, but I can say I plan to matriculate to a more respected institution -- and had to read the entirety of Thomas Hobbes' "The Leviathan" in three days. The title of that dumb book says it all -- leviathan. I read it all, but don't ask me to remember any of it. We'll being more fidgety -- or having a less drug-addled brain than the other droolers who got to this college -- I found it difficult to sit in one place and read 300 pages straight through. I was sitting outside the library because it seemed like a nice day out and I wanted to be outside. I kept fidgeting, but one of the guys from my class was reading straight through. I wondered what was different between us and then I noticed it -- he was holding a smoldering torch of joy! Instantly, I realized my salvation. If I could but wrap my lips around one of these nicotine imbued delights, I too could find the tranquility of mind to sit fixated by deep thoughts and weighty tomes. So, I walked over and asked for a smoke. He obliged and I returned to reading. The first few puffs were bewildering, but I soon caught the hang of it.
Sadly, it only worked for about half an hour.
Courage steeled, I bought my first underage pack that afternoon and puffed myself into a sore throat by nightfall. I figure it was a necessary move to being smart. All the fast thinking Frenchmen - Sartre and Camus and Beckett - knew the power of lighting up. It keeps the brain clear and I've never looked back.
Sorry, avid readers, but SullenTeen is resting for a little while before its imminent rebirth. That, and the editors haven't been feeling terribly sullen lately, so they're taking some time to reconnect with their roots. Thank you for your patience.
Is smoking cool? Yes, there is a right answer to this question, but please feel free to submit your personal opinions. Especially if you're a mormon...
st_ranger writes in:
Smoking is pretty much a neutral activity. If someone cool is smoking it is cool, likewise someone uncool smoking would remain uncool.
Wow, st_ranger, really fucking close. Can we give it to him? We'll have to check with the judges to see if you won, but the correct answer for those of you keeping track at home is:
Smoking is cool. Jillions of teens begin smoking everyday because they intuitively know this fact. Unfortunately, smoking does not necessarily make a person cool. There's definitely a corralary between the two, but when a corpulent, D&D playing, social misfit smokes (which they inevitably do), it cannot possibly make him cool. In fact, these misfits should really refrain from smoking because they make the whole practice look depressingly declassé. Leave smoking to the biker chicks, hit men, and alcoholics, will ya? Don't ruin its image.
Oh, and an editorial thought or two about all those quitters out there... In my experience, these fallen men and women are nothing but trouble and annoyance to those of us stay true to smoking community... All that quitters really want is to hear is how great and wonderful and admirable they are for quitting. Otherwise they wouldn't insist upon talking about it incessantly; they simply would not smoke. I refuse to cater to this vanity, so I just won't respond to their requests for praise and approval. I think God will strike the quitter with cancer for being egocentric as quickly as he lets loose with cancer for smokers. Well, it makes sense to me.
In conclusion... nobody likes a quitter.